Tin Soldier
by Seajellybaby
Summary: What happened when Noah ran off to join the army?
1. Chapter 1

"I love the smell of napalm in the morning!"

Cash was only trying to lighten the mood; help keep the fear at bay. Noah knew that. But nerves were too badly shot up; the platoon too afraid.

"Shut the hell up, Rivers!" Calvin snapped at him; stiff shoulders pressed against the opening of the doorway; rifle nestled between nervous knees in readiness. "This ain't a fucking joke!"

Cash snorted in the darkness, hands shaking. Of course he knew that. He meant no harm. He was just as scared.

"Yeah, Rivers! Fuck!" Jo agreed, breathing heavily; a thick smell of blood filling the air from the bullet wound on this right calf. It was infected, Noah was sure about that.

But it didn't matter. They weren't getting out anyway.

"We're trapped!" Calvin exclaimed for the fourth or fifth time, voice raising a further notch of hysteria. He risked another quick peek around the crumbling brick lintel, only to have an enemy's sniper bullet ricochet off the brickwork; inches from his head. He flew back inside and out of sight. His face was bright with panic, even in the bad light. "Shit! We really _are_ trapped. Aren't we, Blue?"

Noah tried to avoid the man's wild, wide eyes; still hopeful despite the situation. With one last clip of ammo in his pocket, and hands clutching an almost empty gun, what could Noah reply to him? What could he say to any of them?

He felt at the four dog-tags hanging around his neck; one his own, the others belonging to the men they'd lost that week; swiftly whipped over their necks as the platoon retreated further and further back. Noah had hoped to one day return the metal tags to their families, but that wasn't likely to happen now.

Kissinger, Brown, and their platoon leader McClatchy, the man who had taken the young Noah Mayer under his wing and sheltered him for two whole years; all gone.

Noah stoically held back the tears threatening to leak out. He had to be the strong one here. For whatever reason these men were looking to him for strength; and that gave Noah a purpose. It gave Noah focus.

He was propped up against the back of the small one-roomed house; roof long since blown off in a previous mortar attack. He dropped his head back into the wall; closed his eyes to the visions of death that refused to leave him. He swallowed hard and wondered why they all looked to him for answers. Compared to the rest of the platoon, he was the rookie, the youngest… yet at some point during the past week his cool head had made him the unofficial leader.

It wasn't a role he wanted.

For at least two days they'd been sheltering there; a standoff. There was no way out; Noah knew this; had already accepted it.

The radio lay smashed at his feet, but it didn't matter. They hadn't been able to signal for help even while it was working.

Except for the slight starlight bathing them through the hole in the roof it was pitch black and silent in the desert; that eerie silence when you knew you weren't the only people there. Insurgents were watching… waiting. Soon the US platoon would run dry of ammo or, worse, food and water. Eventually, they'd be forced to make a deadly mistake.

However this ended, their fate was sealed.

Noah crossed his arms over his knees and dropped his forehead into them. Sweat dripped from his face and onto the gun he held tightly to his chest. He nodded affirmation in response to Calvin's question. He couldn't bring himself to say it out loud.

"Shit!" Jo exclaimed in what was almost a sob, kissing the crucifix he kept around his neck; a protection charm gifted to him by his mother. He made the sign of the cross over himself.

Noah watched a little jealously. Nothing like bombs and mortar to make you wish you had something to cling to; something to believe in. He'd been thinking about God a lot lately actually.

God and Luke.

Opening his eyes, Noah partially lifted himself off the stone floor, rooting around in his deep cargo pockets for the letter he kept safe there. Almost two years old, the paper was crumpled; thin and fragile where the page had been folded into four; read and re-read.

He didn't open it now; simply spun the paper around between his fingers. He knew what was written there by heart anyhow.

**Dear Noah,**

**I know you're already out on patrol. It's something too terrifying even to think about. Anyway, I hope you get this. **

**Collage isn't working out for me. I'm going to take time off to figure out what I want to do with my life. **

**Reg asked me to move with him to Chicago and I said yes. He's become really special to me, Noah, and that's why I'm writing. **

**I thought I could do this. But six months in… It's harder than I imagined. I will always love you, Sweetheart, but I need more than vague letters with silly little xxx's on the bottom. **

**I still don't understand why you chose to go there. Does it give you such a strong sense of purpose that you can ignore a future beyond the army? A future with me? **

**I'm sorry. I don't mean to come off as bitter. I might not understand your decision but I do understand your heart; and I know your enlistment has nothing to do with some kind of macho patriotism. **

**I just want my Noah to come back to me. I want my Noah back.**

**But I know that won't happen… And I can't sit around waiting for that knock on the door… **

**You'll always be in my thoughts.**

**Love, Luke **

**xxx **

If Noah could adopt one talent, it would be the deliverance of words. Then perhaps he could have found a way to hang onto Luke; make him understand. Tell Luke how he really felt.

The grenade landed with a strange ticking sound, where it bounced twice, just inside the doorway. It came as no shock to him. He simply wrapped his head in his arms while it exploded.

As everything settled around him, he found himself covered in heavy debris. He felt numb, except for a strange feeling in his spine like tiny pinpricks.

The combination of smoke and thick dust was suffocating; unbearable. He couldn't hear anything; just a strange hollow whooshing; a high-pitched whistling sound and the thump of his heart slowing.

As Noah closed his eyes; welcoming the darkness; he knew he was crying; cheeks staining with regret.

Luke's premonition; Luke's greatest fear as he clung to Noah years ago, begging him not to enlist; was realised. For the first time in his life Noah found himself praying; …that Luke had moved on enough to avoid any further pain from this.


	2. Chapter 2

A light wind twirled a pretty dance of leaves; picking up sunshine along the way and reaching Noah's cheek with a warm kiss. He breathed it in; all oak and rich soil laced with a hint of flavour wafting down from the farmhouse barbeque beyond.

_Beats the smell of antiseptic and medication any day of the week!_

They'd start looking for him soon. He could hear the feint strings of music, chatting and laughter. So many people come to welcome him home; neighbours, his old collage professors, the crew from Java; friends with their new families and new lives.

_Home. _

It hadn't been easy to slip away. But Noah craved the solitude. He still felt shakily insecure and unreal. It felt impossible for him to be here and yet, somehow, he was; after years of dreaming the place up in his head.

He slowly circled the large trees until he found what he was looking for. Leaning carefully forward on his crutches, he ran a shaky hand over the deep grooves cut into the old oak.

L LOVES N

It was still there. A symbol of just how young and innocent they were then.

He carefully shuffled himself over to the nearest wooden fence and leaned back against it; watching the floor for any wayward tuffs of grass that might trip up a less able-bodied person.

_Like me._

He tried not to think of how easily his younger self would have climbed the fence to sit right on the top; hands gripping hold on either side; feet carefully balanced on a lower rung. He'd spent many a moment up there; side by side with Luke while they discussed their future; dreamed dreams… shared kisses.

He sighed and dug around in his front pocket, feeling for the two yellow capsules he knew were there. He studied them in his palm for a moment before swallowing each one dry. There was a water tap not too far, right beside the barn. But he'd used up all his energy making it this far.

Being here felt wonderful and painful all in one burning breath.

Luke was everywhere; his essence caressed each room and sweetened the air.

Luke was all Noah could think about.

…

**Three years ago**

It was Luke's laugh Noah fell for first; all loud and full; uninhibited. It was this same laugh he chased through the trees; feet picking up speed as the sound dimmed beyond the clearing.

"Luke!" he half gulped, half giggled. "Come on! Where are you?"

He stopped running to listen. Birds chirped incessantly; the icy wind rustled at dry leaves, sending many falling in an orange and red rain over Noah's head.

As he brushed these from his shoulders, he could hear the horses whinnying in time for their afternoon feed; and Ammo barking excitedly somewhere to Noah's right.

Then he heard it; a teasing song from the vicinity of the barn. "No…ah…"

A grin spread across his lips and his heart beat at the sound. He turned on his heal and headed that way; clearing the trees and turning the corner of the barn; only to find himself slammed up against the wooden panels that formed the large structure.

"Gotcha!" Luke forced a leg between Noah's knees with a grunt and pressed his chest close; smelling his way up Noah's neck until they were nose to nose.

"You know," Noah reminded him, at the same time as pulling Luke closer by his belt loops. "If we get caught, you're the one who's gonna get it from Emma…"

Luke cutely smirked and tilted his head seductively. "Perhaps… but it will be worth it."

Luke's breathy words ghosted over Noah's lips and he shivered at the same time as he smiled. Luke's fingers fumbled and wriggled between them; urgent in their determination to unbutton his own Levi jeans.

Any thought of Luke's grandmother and her strict rules of conduct for their behaviour on her farm, were instantly forgotten. Even the danger that Noah might lose his adoptive new home, wasn't enough to overpower Luke's effect on Noah's every sense.

"Come on, Cowboy!" Luke demanded, still so temptingly close that Noah had only to speak and their lips would touch. "I'll show you, if you show me…"

With a quick whip of sound, Luke's jeans were round his knees and the blonde was extremely busy in the task of helping Noah find a similar state of undress.

They stood together for a moment with their exposed thighs touching and goose-bumping under the freezing breeze until, by silent consent, they both removed their underwear. Barely with a breath between them, they held each other skin to skin; hearts struggling to find a regular rhythm under winter layers and teenaged hormones.

This was as far as they'd ever dared go. They stared at each other without words; anticipation building until one, or both of them broke and their lips were dancing. The more their tongues touched the more aroused Noah became, until it was almost torture.

As if sensing this, Luke reached low between them and began to touch Noah; furtive at first, slow and interested in every ridge and dip; then with more urgency; helping Noah over while also in search of his own release.

As Noah shyly returned the gesture; he felt in awe of the noises they were making. They sounded foreign to his ear; all primal and animalistic; yet as natural as breathing.

The warmth from Luke's relentless handlings turned into a heat that shot fast from his head to his toes. His entire body shuddered and, with shock, his legs gave out.

So did Luke's.

They fell limbless in a heap on the ground; all musky and breathy and totally alive.

He watched Luke's eyes widen at the sound of quickly approaching footsteps, followed by his mother's voice, "Noah? Are you down here, Noah?"

…

Noah jolted, as though embarrassed to be caught with that memory.

"Noah?" Luke's mother called. "Are you down here, Noah?"

"Here," he replied, clearing his throat and awkwardly hopping in one spot, while he repositioned a crutch under each arm.

"There you are!" Lily's smile was wide and loving; eyes hinting worry. "I've been looking everywhere!"

"Sorry." Noah lowered his head and eyed his disjointed shadow.

"It's not too overwhelming is it?" she asked. "I don't know… once people found out about the barbeque, they all wanted to come and see how you are."

_Peer at the freak you mean. _

The thought was as ugly as Noah knew it to be untrue, yet it crossed his mind anyway.

"We've all missed you, Sweetheart."

Noah looked up as Lily used the same endearment Luke had in his letter all those years ago.

_Yeah… everybody missed me… everybody…_

"Do you need some more time?" she asked.

He shook his head and forced a smile. "No, it's okay. I was just catching some air."

She nodded and waited for him to start moving before slowly following on beside him. "I just spoke to Luke…"

Noah's shoulder's tensed.

"…he sends his best wishes…" She was watching him closely, but Noah kept his eyes forward. "He doesn't say it, but… I can tell he misses you."

Noah remained silent and tried to pick up speed as much as he could.

"Noah, he-"

"Please, Mrs Snyder…" Noah quickly interrupted; stopping still and taking a deep breath before looking at her. Once he did, he really wished he hadn't. She looked so terribly sad. He sighed. "I really don't want to seem ungrateful… I mean… you've done so much for me and… I don't even know why… but… I just… I just can't…"

She was nodding at him now, squeezing his shoulder to let him know he needn't say more. "You're okay here though, right? Happy?"

Noah nodded and tried to smile.

"And you're not in too much pain, I hope?"

Noah couldn't answer that without it being a lie, so he was more than a little relieved to see his old friend, Jeff, bounding down the hillside to meet them; plastic cup of beer in his hand. "There's the missing guest of honour! Where you been, Man?"

"Just for a walk…"

"Well, come on! We can't toast without you!" Jeff's eyes were sparkling; evidence of the happiness he felt at having his friend back.

"Well, okay," Noah reluctantly told him. "But I'm afraid I can't drink…"

Jeff raised his eyebrows in question.

"Meds and booze don't mix." Noah told him.

Jeff knocked his forehead with the palm of his free hand. "I'm such a prick! Sorry, Buddy! Wasn't thinking!"

Noah smiled at him. "It's okay, really…"

"I mean… God! If I got blown up I'd probably load myself up on the good stuff too! Strong stuff, if you get what I'm saying?"

"Yes," Noah nodded, as they began to approach the barbecue. "I get what you mean, Jeff…"

"Noah!" Holden excitedly waved. "Get over here and choose your meat before these vultures get their hands on everything!"

Noah waved awkwardly with one crutch hanging from his hand.

A line of hungry and expectant paper plate holding guests was already forming. Noah felt their curious eyes on him, watching with a kind of macabre interest the way Noah's empty left pant leg flopped as he hopped by; growing silent with the numbed way peopled had of not knowing what to say… or how to act…

He reached the start of the line and couldn't help but smile at the way his old friend Casey yelled with fake indignation, "Hey? There's a line, ya know?"

The tension broke and the line of people laughed out loud.

"Yeah, there is!" Noah yelled back without looking over his shoulder. Instead, he got to work picking the best cuts of meat off the grill. "But some of us are more important than others!"

Casey whistled loudly. "Well, well… look who came back from war with an attitude!"

"Love ya too, Man!" Noah replied, winking at the smiling Holden; who followed with Noah's plate as they made their way over to the salad table.

But Noah's mood was only temporarily lifted. As he sat at the nearest table with his food and thanked Holden for his assistance, Noah couldn't help but scan the crowd. He hoped against hope that a pair of hazel eyes might suddenly appear even as he knew they wouldn't.


	3. Chapter 3

Jackets were pulled on as a cold evening wind swept in from the north.

Stubbornly ignoring doctor's orders, Noah finished off his sixth beer and staggered about the yard, bidding guests farewell and thanking them for coming. He was grateful that nobody asked him what he planned to do with this future; even more grateful that nobody asked about his past; although he could see the curiosity burning in their eyes.

The booze combined like a beautiful symphony with the fentanyl in Noah's blood. It danced a ballet over his broken heart; masking thoughts of Luke for a few hours at least.

As things quietened down he found an abandoned picnic blanket spread under Emma's favourite apple tree. He carefully sat, leaning back against the bark with his eyes lightly closed. He listened to the farm; to the gentle voices of Lily and Emma offering up their goodbyes and promises to keep people updated.

With every minute the crowd thinned, until only the core few remained; quietly chatting as they helped to clear up.

He blinked as a shadow fell over him; blocking the last of the day's sunshine. Casey stood beside him; grinning and leaning on a broom.

"So," he said good-humouredly, "getting blown up gets you out of clean up duty, ha? I'll have to remember that!"

"I don't recommend it," Noah replied, picking at the long grass around the base of the tree. He placed the end of one stalk in his mouth and sucked at the sweetness.

"No." Casey simply said; suddenly more serious.

"I just…" Noah deeply sighed and looked out over the yard. "I can't get my head around why I'm here…?"

"At the farm?" Casey asked.

"No," Noah softly clarified. "I mean here? I mean alive?"

For the first time Casey frowned. "You wish you weren't?"

Noah shook his shoulders in frustration. "I don't know, Case! I guess… maybe… yes…"

Casey took a seat on the blanket beside his friend. "Would you still be saying this if Luke had come today?"

Noah thought long and hard for a moment. "Despite what people think, what I'm feeling now isn't about Luke. At least not totally..."

"Wanna talk about it?"

But how was Noah supposed to express _this_? He was barely able to voice his emotions at the best of times… How did he explain this almost crippling feeling of responsibility and guilt? How could he put this anger and pain into words a fun-loving guy like Casey could understand? A guy who's only knowledge of war came from books and movies?

So Noah said nothing, merely shook his head.

"You know?" Casey softy said, "Luke still loves you."

"Then where the hell is he?" Noah clamped his mouth tightly shut; surprised at how fast he reacted; surprising even himself at the bitterness in his tone.

"You're the one that left, Man!" Casey reminded him; then softened almost instantly. "This-"

Noah looked up at his friend as Casey struggled to vocalise the seriousness of Noah's injury.

"Look," Casey said after a moment's thought, "I get this ain't easy on you. Nobody would expect it to be! I mean… _hell Man_?" Casey's eyes watered. He quickly blinked them dry; trying to keep a steady voice. "We thought you were going to die!"

"I know."

"All I'm saying is… cut Luke some slack, okay? This can't be easy on him either…"

Noah struggled to stand and was grateful when Casey didn't try to help him. Once he was fairly balanced on his crutches he let out a long breath. "I get what you're saying… okay, Case?"

Casey nodded, stretching out to squeeze his friend's shoulder.

"But face it…" Noah continued, "…Luke moved on a long time ago and… honestly, I'm glad. I really am. I'm happy for him. I'm happy he didn't have to…"

"What?" Casey asked, "Take care of you?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Don't ask me that, Casey, 'kay? Please…"

"Noah, _you are not_ a burden!" Casey assured him; forcing his friend to look him directly in the eye. "You hear me? Not to Lily, not to Holden and you definitely wouldn't be to Luke! Okay? Trust me on that! I've known Luke my _whole_ life… The guy loved you then and he loves you now. He just… he's just scared. Like you are…"

Noah shook his head, unable or unwilling to let those thoughts wash through the minefield that was his brain. "I appreciate what you're saying… But as soon as I get word from the army I'm out of here. I don't belong here anymore. These people… these people are taking care of me out of some misplaced sense of obligation."

"Noah, no-"

But Noah held up a hand to silence Casey. "Luke is with Reg now. What we had was great… amazing even… but it's over. I've accepted that and… please, Casey… I need you to as well… Because I have to stay realistic right now. I'm in no position to dream."

Casey sadly regarded his friend but finally shrugged. "Whatever you need, Man."

Noah patted Casey on the back and made an excuse about being tired. He escaped to Luke's old bedroom, which had since become his. The walls were coved with framed horse riding ribbons and basketball trophies adorned most surfaces.

There were photos too; of Luke and the family mostly. But also one or two of Luke and Noah together, smiling like there was no tomorrow. Noah supposed that in those days there hadn't been. They'd lived each moment as it came; sunning themselves in that feeling of being together.

He lay quietly, staring up at the ceiling.

_What a fucking cliché!_

After almost four years in the desert, Noah had heard every breakup story there was to tell! He'd seen it happen to more soldiers than he could count. Most of the time it wasn't even a matter of 'if', but rather of 'when'. And always the poor soul could be found drunk and silent somewhere afterward.

…

**Three years ago**

He knew it was coming.

He knew when the lieutenant called out his name, "Noah Mayer?"

"Here…"

He knew as he watched the letter pass backward through the hands of men crowding around; all eager for words from home.

He knew even before he slipped his army knife under the flap and carefully tore the envelope open.

The letter had taken fourteen weeks to reach him. Honestly, it was a miracle it had. By now, they were so deeply entrenched in the desert it could be months before they saw another platoon.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his back. It was Colonel Mc'.

"Come on, Sergeant! Better get yourself fed before he hit the road."

Noah cleared his throat; hiding his face so the colonel couldn't see his tears. "Where to this time?"

"Just a trip down Turath Street! Same 'ol story! Say… you okay?"

Noah nodded. "Yeah… just… just got a Dear John."

The colonel sympathetically sighed. "Happens to the best of us! Anyway, plenty more where that one came from! Hey, soldier?"

"Not for me…"

The colonel regarded Noah for a moment. "You gonna have a clear enough head out there, Kid? There's reports of insurgents, so I need you to be on your best game!"

"Yes, Sir."

…

When Noah came downstairs that morning, he found Lily and Holden arguing in the den.

"Turn it off please!" Lily was saying. "Quickly before he gets here!"

Holden was watching CNN; an expose on some or other military disaster in Afghanistan. Lily grabbed the remote out of her husband's hand and quickly changed the channel.

"You can't protect him from it, Lily!" Holden scowled, "It's on the news almost every night! He's gonna see it, whether you like it or not!"

"Look, Holden," Lily replied. "Noah's seen enough of war to last a lifetime! Even if all I do is protect him from those blasted news reports, then so help me I'm going to do it!"

Noah felt suddenly as if he couldn't breathe.

"Please don't fight about me." He softly requested from the doorway, making them both nervously jump.

"Oh, Sweetie, you're up!" Lily fussed. "Don't you worry about Holden and me! You know what we're like! Now… let's get you fed! Emma's been making pancakes all morning just for you."

…

After breakfast, Noah helped Holden load hay bales into the back of the pickup.

"Rest if you're tired, you hear?" Holden insisted. "Don't try to be a hero! You've only been out of hospital a few weeks! I don't want Lily accusing me of sending you straight back!"

Noah smiled, "I will."

They drove along the fences, stopping off to fill the feeding pens. The wind had dropped and the sun grew hotter toward midday; sapping Noah of any strength and forcing him to rest more often than he would have liked. The ache in his leg was a constant pain that burned now as his stump chaffed within its prosthetic cup. He tried to ignore it; wanting to be as much help to Holden as possible; but eventually he couldn't hide his agony from the older man and Holden insisted on driving Noah back to the farm.

When they arrived, Lily crossed the yard with look of worry and a large envelope in one hand.

"It's from the army," she said.

He stared down at the letter extended toward him.

Seeing his expression, Lily quickly snatched it back. "You don't have to read this now. Only when you're ready."

"No." Noah said. "I do. It's my orders so…"

She nodded and this time he took the letter. He settled on the nearest bench and scanned the contents with shaky hands. Lily and Holden watched on.

"What does it say?" Holden asked, unable to hold back his anxiety.

"I'm to report to the VA Hospital in Branson a week from Monday."

"But you only just arrived?" Lily moaned. "How long for?"

Noah shook his head. "Doesn't say. Rest of my term, I guess. Says I've been selected to trial some fancy new prosthetic. Suppose it takes some time to get fitted and there'll be some Physio… so…"

Lily sniffed and looked away. "So a long time then?"

"Yeah."

"Well it's good, right?" Holden reminded them all. "I mean, this leg should help, right?"

Noah caught Lily's eye and they both nodded.

"Well, good," Holden said. "Noah, why don't you go lie down? It's been a busy morning for you."

Noah retired to bed but didn't sleep. Instead he trawled through the materials contained within the envelope; photos, medical explanations; fancy brochures. He read that he was one of only five GI's chosen to trial this revolutionary new procedure. The program was designed to take up to a year. But it would likely take longer, seeing as how they were the first participants. They'd live in housing provided by the army, report daily and be confined to a wheelchair for most of the time.

_Fucking great!_

**Would love to know what you think of this one... Please review...**


	4. Chapter 4

Johnny Cash sang about cool water; his distinctive baritone filling the small space like a lullaby.

Noah leaned one elbow out the open window of Holden's truck; resting his head in the crook.

They drove at leisurely pace past infinite fields of tall yellow corn that swayed and rolled in the ever present wind. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the breeze tickling at his fringe and cooling his open-collared neck.

"He works all the time, you know?"

Noah jerked awake from his doze. "Hmm? Sorry? Did you say something?"

"Luke?" Noah's uncomfortable shifting didn't go unnoticed by the naturally observant Holden. Luke's father turned the sound down on the radio. "I don't want you to feel bad because he didn't come. It's not just you… he…" Holden sighed, shaking his head. "We hardly see him ourselves anymore. He's buried himself in some project with the Foundation. Ever since-"

Noah nodded, turning his face to the window as Holden's sentence broke quickly off. "Ever since I came back..."

"Ever since he found out you were hurt, yes…"

"I'm sorry."

"For what, Son?"

Noah glanced down at his lap. "I'm the reason your son's staying away. He doesn't want to run into me…"

The truck came to rest at a T-Junction; and Holden waited to pull out into the road again before saying, "That's not true. He's just…"

"Scared? Yeah. That's what Casey thinks too."

"And you don't?"

Noah heavily shrugged his shoulders. "The Luke I remember doesn't run... He faces things head on."

Holden glanced swiftly at Noah before continuing; eyes on the road ahead, "You know, when Lily phoned to give Luke the news, he wouldn't let her tell him. It took three days before he picked up our call. He was terrified of being told you were dead."

"But I didn't die," Noah pointed out. "I'm right here. And where is he? If he cares so much like you all seem to think or want or whatever…"

This wasn't a conversation Noah wanted to have; especially with Holden. He didn't want anybody to see him fall apart; and he was always perilously close to that.

Elvis came on the radio and Holden drove for a while, softly humming along; drumming in time to the music on the steering wheel. For a moment, Noah felt relieved. It seemed the conversation was over; and he could once again fade away inside his own thoughts; watching the world pass by in the truck's wing mirror.

But just as he began to doze once more, Holden admitted, "I don't know exactly why Luke's behaving as he is. I can only tell you how he sounded… his relief that you were alive… his fear over your condition..."

Truthfully, Noah didn't know what to make of that; except it stood to reason that Luke would still have _some_ feelings for him. But Noah felt like he was being more realistic than Luke's family. The cold reality was Luke didn't love him the same way as before.

"The Luke I knew would have come," he simply said, with a tremor in his voice.

Holden nodded; acknowledging the unspoken, "If he really wanted to."

"Perhaps he's not the same person anymore, Noah," Holden surmised, after shifting gear to pass a slow-moving transit van. "Maybe all that's gone down has changed something in him… as it has you…"

Holden waited for Noah to speak but Noah had nothing more to say.

Holden sighed, "You're not gonna disappear on us, are you, Kid?"

Noah felt his heart squeeze, just as it had back at the farm, when he bid Luke's family goodbye; hugged Lily and kissed Emma; the younger Snyders crying and asking when he'd be back.

"I'm not gonna drop you at that hospital today only to never see you again, right?" Holden kept on.

Noah didn't know where to look.

"Our feelings for you are real, Noah. They have nothing to do with Luke."

"I know," Noah assured him. "And I'm sorry… You've been good to me. The way you've always taken me in when I haven't had anywhere to go and..."

"We will always be there for you."

Noah sighed. Being with the Snyders hurt sometimes.

"I'll do the best I can," he eventually promised. "Can that be enough for now?"

Holden smiled. "At this stage, we'll take anything we can get!"

…

The truck rattled down a long manicured drive that circled round an old white fountain; two cherubs blowing water-music out of flutes.

Branson University Military Hospital was tucked away on a peaceful and secluded 150-acre, 19th century farm, just west of the main town. The old red farmhouse had been extensively modernized without loss of character.

Holden whistled under his breath, bending his head low to peer up at the building through the truck's dusty windscreen. "Looks more like a home than a hospital."

Noah swallowed hard; stomach tightening with nerves and apprehension. He should have no problem with something like this; new place, new situation, new faces. It was simply a mirror of his childhood after all.

Maybe there was a time when he would have been fine; back when Noah didn't know what a home felt like. The Snyders had spoilt him; given him too brief a glimpse of what a true family was like.

Noah wished he could go back to a time when it didn't matter; when he didn't have anything to lose.

A ruffling noise startled him. The driver door was open and the seat empty. Holden was already heaving Noah's bags from the back of the truck.

Noah breathed back the panic and stepped carefully from the cab; real limb first, artificial last. He felt a chill deep in his bones, despite the afternoon heat. He shivered and pulled his army fatigues closer round his body; jumping as Holden's hand rubbed up and down his arm.

"Looks like quite a place," Holden reassured him. "It's got to mean something you were selected for this program. It will work out, Kid. You'll see."

Not feeling nearly as confident as Holden (and hiding too many feelings of unworthiness to count) Noah merely nodded before slinging his standard issue rucksack over his shoulder and dragging his crutches out of the truck.

The grounds seemed to be crawling with army officers, robed patients and medical personnel. Some sat peacefully under trees and at tables; talking or playing cards. Others rushed busily here and there.

The parking area was quieter; only a few cars parked in rows marked for the doctors and visitors.

Holden carried as much as he could handle up the wheelchair ramp. Noah followed at the slower pace he'd been forced to become accustomed to. They were both surprised when the home's very normal looking front door automatically swung open for them.

"Amazing," Holden muttered. "This place is something!"

Noah wasn't sure whether Holden's reaction was genuine or merely his way of shining a little sunlight on the situation for Noah's sake. He suspected it was most likely a little of both.

"Private Mayer, reporting for duty?" Noah said to the pretty blonde nurse at reception.

"Yes, Private. We've been expecting you. You're the last to arrive."

"The last?" Noah asked.

"The last in your particular group of trials," she clarified with a smile. "We're very excited about this new prosthetic! It's quite something!"

Noah gulped and nodded.

She turned to Holden. "I'm sorry, Sir, this is as far as family can go. If you'd like to say your goodbyes, I can show Private Mayer to his suite."

Noah frowned, "Suite?"

"Oh yes!" She smiled eagerly once more. "This facility is top of its kind in the country. You will be very comfortable here. I can assure you of that."

"That's good." Holden smiled, clapping Noah on his shoulder. "I'll just go get the rest of your things."

Noah silently waited, watching Holden through the large front window. As feelings of uselessness threatened to take hold, he saw them off. Since the moment he woke in that hospital bed, he'd denied himself even a pinch of self-pity. He didn't deserve any.

"You're very lucky!" Her voice broke through his thoughts; bringing him back to the present and out of that bombed house in the desert. Noah looked back at her as she continued, "We had a queue of hundreds hoping to be chosen for this trial. But the selection was based on very specific medical records."

Holden stumbled in with the bags, giving Noah some reprieve as his thoughts jumbled like rocks in his head.

"You can leave those here," the receptionist told Holden. "I'll have somebody take them to Private Mayor's suite."

"Noah?" Luke's father was intently studying him.

Noah blinked and locked eyes with Holden.

"You okay, Kid?" Holden asked, concerned. "You look white as a sheet…"

"I don't want to do this," Noah replied.

"Do what?" Holden was steering Noah to a nearby waiting area but Noah resisted.

He turned back to the receptionist, "How do I get out of the program?"

"I'm sorry," she asked, face astounded as Noah hobbled over.

"Noah, what are you saying?" Holden was back by his side.

Noah looked back at the older man. "There must be somebody else? Somebody who _really_ needs this!"

"But _you_ need this," Holden sternly said, suddenly understanding and not liking the direction Noah was taking.

"No."

"Yes!"

"No!" Noah stumbled and Holden caught him. Noah felt ashamed. He never wanted to yell at Luke's father. But this was something he couldn't face.

"Help me to understand," Holden requested, seeing the pleading in the intense blue of Noah's eyes.

Noah shook his head, fighting the urge to cry. "You can't. Nobody can." He faced the young woman once more; still leaning on Holden for support. "Thank you for the opportunity, but there must be somebody else."

She looked lost and more than a little worried. "I'm afraid the selection was very specific. It's far too late to find a replacement. The program begins in the morning."

"Why wasn't I informed?" he moaned. "Why wasn't everything explained to me beforehand? I would have told them I didn't want this!"

"I'm sorry…" It was obvious the young nurse was lost for words.

Noah felt all at once sick and dizzy. He stumbled again, leaning on Holden who this time insisted on taking Noah to the waiting area.

"Come over here and sit down," he instructed. He waited until Noah was seated; the boy's dark head of hair hanging forward, before continuing, "Let's relax and talk this over first. This is important, Son. It's about your future. Don't you want to improve your mobility as much as possible?"

"It doesn't matter," Noah mumbled through his dizziness.

"How can it not matter?"

Noah's head came up and he stared fixedly at Holden; willing the older man to somehow glean his muddled thoughts and understand.

"I lost my leg," he solemnly said. "That's all. But they're dead. All of them!"

For the first time he saw that Holden understood and relief flushed over him.

"You see losing your leg as some kind of punishment?" Holden asked with shock.

"I led them into a trap."

"They followed you, Son," Holden asserted. "That was their choice. You did what you thought right. You did the best you could. You were inexperienced and thrown into an impossible situation. What happened wasn't your fault."

Tears pricked and escaped and, for the first time, Noah cried.

"For whatever reason," Holden continued, crouching beside the armchair while he rubbed slow circles into Noah's upper back, "you are the person chosen for this amazing opportunity. Perhaps by completing this program you'll be opening a door to help other young men like yourself. Maybe that's your purpose now? Don't sell yourself short, okay? You deserve this as much as the next guy. Promise me…"

Totally confused, Noah could only look at the man.

"Promise me, Noah…" Holden persisted.

Tired; leg throbbing as the pain medication began to wear thin; Noah could only nod in response.


	5. Chapter 5

"Oh my God!" Noah exclaimed, pointing to the plume of dark black and gray smoke rising above the three-story buildings ahead.

"Shit! This don't look good!" Calvin muttered; snaking their DPV down a street choked with traffic; past bazaars and shops selling bootlegged DVDs.

"Out of the way!" Noah screamed, hanging off the side of the vehicle; frantically waving his hands at the locals ahead of them. "Kaif ha-laka! Kaif ha-laka!"

Most of the town's inhabitants were fleeing the sounds of bombing and gunfire; women clutching babies to their bosoms; men hurrying them quickly forward.

"Step on it, Rosen!" Jo yelled at Calvin from the rear; already loading his rifle clip with the aid of Rivers.

The DPV took a sharp right turn on two wheels, forcing the four passengers to hold onto the vehicle's elevated bars for dear life. Spotting the rest of their platoon, Calvin brought them to a halt under the shade of a large silver water tower.

Burning cars littered the open square; along with smouldering bodies. Colonel McClatchy, Kissinger and Brown were sheltering behind the bulking mass of an upturned cargo truck. They were under fire from a relentless insurgent attack. At least twenty enemy soldiers had ambushed the US platoon and were firing on them from inside buildings and behind walls.

Noah scanned the area; cautiously stepping out of the small vehicle; keeping low. He held his handgun ready, took a breath and ran. Ducking and diving he hid behind anything he could find enroute; fallen bricks, a car, an old horse-cart. Bullets flew past his ears like tiny whistling birds. His heart hammered as adrenaline flooded his bloodstream.

Just as Noah was near to reaching McClatchy and the others, a beat-up Ford pickup raced past; pulling up beside the cowering US platoon. Inside, a bearded man with crazy red eyes; eyes on fire, stared directly at Noah and smiled.

"No!" Noah screamed; jumping to standing.

The pickup disintegrated, taking Colonel McClatchy with it. Noah was thrown flat to the ground; pushed against the gravel by the hot force of the explosion.

Deafened and disorientated, Noah blinked to find Rivers and Brown bending over him. "Take it easy, Blue, we gotcha!"

Someone was screaming and he realised it was himself. Huge smears of red covered the pavement and his hands; the remnants of McClatchy's body having landed over Noah's feet.

Noah vomited down his chest, laying back; trembling.

…

Noah flung the covers from his body; heaving for breath; sitting up and battling for minutes with an invisible enemy.

Terrified, sweat-soaked, he gasped for breath; in and out until his heart settled. He struggled to remember where he was; calming only as his eyes adjusted to the darkened hospital suite.

Feeling somewhat steady, he shifted his body from the bed, using the headboard to help pull his tall frame to standing. He reached for the crutches where they rested up against the bed's side table; hopping his way to the bathroom so he could throw cold water on his face.

Leaning on the sink, Noah released a shot of air; staring at his dripping reflection in the darkened mirror. His eyes were shadowed and sullen; he hardly recognised himself.

He spent the rest of the night sitting on the edge of his unmade bed, staring out the widow at the moon-bathed hospital grounds. He moved only when his alarm-clock began beeping.

It was difficult showering and dressing himself, but he'd always struggled to accept help with this; even back when he'd really needed it. Eventually, he'd fitted on the temporary leg; nothing more than a long metal pole with a boot stuck on the end; and dressed in his army casuals.

Somebody rapped on his door.

"Coming!" he called. "Just give me a minute, please."

After a struggle to reach it, Noah opened the door to find Nurse Mantel waiting outside.

"Oh," she remarked with surprise. "I came to see if you needed any help getting ready. But I see you've managed on your own."

The exertion of the morning had caused a thin film of sweat to form on Noah's brow. He quickly wiped it away on his sleeve.

"I'm good thanks," he assured her; hiding a grimace as a bolt of pain shot through his body.

She smiled. "Well, anytime you need anything, just ring the buzzer. Whoever's on duty will see to you as soon as possible."

Noah nodded and said his goodbyes, carefully closing the door on her.

He turned to survey his suite; just like a mini apartment; everything a singleton needed to feel at home in an environment that was anything but. His pills were already lined up like disciplined soldiers on the tiny kitchen countertop; two yellow, one pink, three white and a red. He stared at them for a moment before pouring a glass of water and downing them one at a time.

He'd just taken a bite out of an apple when his cell rang. It was Lily.

"Morning, Honey," she sang. Noah could hear the worried mother in her tone. "I hope I didn't wake you. How have you settled in?"

"I'm okay," he replied. "I've been awake for a while."

"Have you made any friends yet?" She asked.

"Lily, he's only been there five minutes! Give the kid a chance!" Noah heard Holden say in the background.

"I've just slept the night," he told her. "I've not seen anybody… just a few nurses."

"Oh, well," she replied. "I'm sure you will meet plenty of people today. You start the program soon, right?"

"In about two hours."

"That's good. And how are you feeling? Have you taken your meds?"

Noah smiled despite himself. "Yes, _Mom_. I do know how to take care of myself."

There was silence as they both digested what he'd allowed to let slip; even if it was in semi-derision.

"I know that, Sweetheart." There were touched tears in her voice and Noah felt his own throat tighten. "You can't blame me for being a little worried, now can you?"

"Thank you," he responded; unsure of what else he could say.

…

Words. Nothing but words. Lots of words.

"…I need you to be prepared. The new prostheses may not work for all of you…" the voice of the facility head droned on. "…possible infections… new bone must bond with the titanium implant…"

Noah hazily scanned the gathering of one-legged young men. The others listened with interest and furrowed brows. They really wanted to be there.

"…new legs should offer better control and, eventually, less pain… four months in a wheelchair… three months training…"

Noah was feeling the sleepless night. His eyelids grew heavier by the minute. He was relieved when they adjourned for breakfast, so he could help himself to a black coffee from the table set up at the back of the room.

"Before we eat," Dr. Patnick was telling the assembled men and medical staff. "I'd like to introduce you to an important member of the research team; the man instrumental in getting this project off the ground and owner of Oceanview Medical Biotics, the company that designed the new prosthetics."

Noah stirred three sugars into his coffee as the room erupted with whistles and catcalls. A young man with blonde hair strode in and stood beside Patnick; anxious eyes searching every face in the room until they found what they were looking for.

Noah gasped and dropped the Styrofoam cup. He didn't move as two nurses rushed to his aid and began cleaning up the spillage round his feet. He didn't notice the other participants staring at him.

Bonded in that hazel glare, he couldn't breathe at all…


	6. Chapter 6

Just as Noah zipped up his bag, the door to his Chicago hotel room flew open. Luke burst in; closing the door with his back.

"What are you doing here?" Noah chastised. He only had a few minutes before he was due to meet the army processing officer down in the lobby. "I told you the policy! No visitors!"

"I don't care!" Luke stated; eyes flashing with that stubbornness Noah had fallen in love with. "I've got to say this!"

Noah wasn't finding this character trait very amusing in that particular moment. "Luke! I'm not kidding! You've gotta leave! There… No unauthorised persons in here! Okay? It's against regulations! You want to get me kicked out?"

"Would that be a bad thing?" Luke sarcastically replied; although there was little humour in his voice.

Noah sighed. "Why are you doing this?"

"I am trying to save your life," Luke stipulated, enunciating each word to make sure his intention was clear.

"Well," Noah replied; in no mood for Luke's games. "I've got a news flash for ya! The army teaches you how to not get killed. And… well… you know what? I'm a pretty good student! So would you _please_ just leave?"

"No!" Luke maintained. "The army's not the answer. Not for you! You're gay."

"I'm aware of that," Noah assured him; with a tone that asked how it was relevant at all.

"So," Luke continued, "it's the whole don't ask don't tell thing. You don't get to talk about being gay; you don't get to tell people you're gay; you don't get to act upon it…"

Noah had heard enough. "Well, you're the only one I want to be with, so I'm not worried about acting on it… And, I won't be talking about it because that would just make me miss you more… So, the whole don't ask don't tell thing… it _works_ for me!"

Luke was relentless. "So, you'd be fine with not putting my picture in your locker? Or… or not being able to read my letters to your friends?"

"Luke," Noah softened. "It's just for a few years."

He said it in reassurance, but it was the wrong thing to say yet. Luke's face fell.

"Years?" he asked as though he'd heard incorrectly. He shook his head. "God… I wish your father wasn't dead… Because if he was alive, and he brought this up… You would laugh in his face…"

His grief still so fresh, these words pierced Noah's heart and his reaction was swift, "Yeah, well, he _is_ dead! And it woke me up! I can't just go to school and make movies! I've got to _do _something with my life!"

"Yeah, but _this_?" Luke asked. "It's like your dad is running your life from the grave or something…"

"And what are you doing?" Noah accused. "I mean, coming here? Talking to me like… like I'm too stupid to make my own decisions!"

"No, Noah!" Luke grabbed Noah by his biceps. "I am terrified!" His eyes shone with fear; his voice shuddered and he smoothed his hands up to Noah's shoulders. "I am so scared I… I am so scared it's like I can't even breathe!"

The fight left Noah in an instant.

"Well…" he said, drowning in Luke's gaze. "I'll be okay…"

"No…" Luke whispered.

Noah drew Luke into his arms; holding him tight. "I will! I'll be okay."

A knock at the door had them both tensing.

"Mayer, open up!"

Noah broke from the embrace and sighed with resolve; making his way to the door. He opened it a crack and stuck his head out.

"Um… I'll be right down in a sec," he told Sergeant Davis and another officer standing outside.

"Is there some reason we can't come in, Mayer?" Davis asked with suspicion.

Noah knew he couldn't lie without risking his place in the army.

"No," he said; trying but failing to come up with a solution. Reluctantly, he opened the door wide to reveal a sheepish looking Luke.

The officers entered, looking stern. "You were fully informed of the policy, Mayer. Who's this?"

To Noah's horror, Luke answered defiantly, "I'm his boyfriend."

The officers appeared unfazed. "Did Mayer invite you up to this room?"

"No!" Noah quickly replied; looking to Luke to fix things. "Will you tell 'em?"

"What if he had?" Luke responded.

For a moment, Noah wondered whether Luke would tell the truth; or whether the blonde would use the opportunity to get what he wanted; Noah kicked out of the army before he'd even been processed.

Noah turned swiftly to face Luke. "When I came here I sighed an agreement to follow strict rules and regulations; no alcohol, no drugs, no going past curfew, no _unauthorised guests_! Violation of these can get me kicked out!"

"Is that true?" Luke asked the officers.

"If Mayer invited you up here he's out," Davis clearly confirmed.

Luke's eyes met Noah's.

"Will you tell the truth?" Noah requested.

Luke made a sound of irritation. It was clear he was still unhappy about the situation. "Noah told me there were no visitors, I didn't listen and I came here anyway."

Noah crossed his arms.

"Son," the second officer said to Luke. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."

"Thank you for telling the truth," Noah told Luke.

"Yeah," Luke swallowed; staring at the floor as he searched for words, before piercing Noah with a look of such blinding want, Noah almost kissed him. "But… the truth is… is that I love you." Luke's hand caressed Noah's cheek; Noah too mesmerised to care that the two officers were witness to it. "There's no truth greater than that."

The breath left Noah's body as Luke's hand dropped away and the blonde sadly nodded once, before leaving the room as requested, followed by the second officer.

When he'd come back to his senses, Noah turned to the sergeant, "I was telling the truth before, Sergeant Davis. I mean, he_ did_ follow me here…"

"I believe you," the man replied. "But be warned, if there is some part of you that's uncomfortable with your decision to enlist, you shouldn't sign the oath."

Noah blinked. "So… what? Now you don't want me?"

"Of course we want exemplary young people like you," Sergeant Davis assured. "But what do _you _want, Noah?"

The answer was immediate. "I want to serve my country."

The sergeant smiled and nodded. "Then let's get about doing that."

They left the hotel together. A car was already waiting outside to take them to the processing centre. But Noah had barely strapped into the backseat, when he heard Luke call his name.

"Noah!"

The officer closed the car door and Luke's face appeared at the window, palms up against the glass.

"Noah!" He pleaded. "Don't do this!" He banged on the glass. "Don't go! I love you!"

It took everything in Noah to break that hazel gaze; stare ahead instead. If he didn't, Luke would pursued him to stay; and Noah knew deep down this was something he_ had_ to do. He was born to serve; born to be a soldier in the US army. His entire life had been geared toward this and he would follow it through. It was all he knew.

And this wasn't about his father. It wasn't.

So he ignored Luke's plaintive looks. He allowed the car to drive away.

He didn't realise it would be the last time he saw Luke. It would bother him for years to come that they never kissed goodbye.

…

Luke's eyes held that some look now, Noah noted; all fear and hope; determination; love tinged with anger.

Luke's matured voice filled the small meeting room. It shuddered with forcefully-suppressed emotion. He let the other patients know how pleased he was to be there; how he hoped the trial would be successful.

It was all too much for Noah. He felt as all the blood drained from his body and he pushed his way to the exit. Alone in the long corridor he leaned back into the wall; struggling with shivering fingers to free his cell from the confines of his back pocket.

"Noah?" Holden's voice raced through the phone to Noah's ear. "We weren't expecting to hear from you so-"

"Did you know?" Noah interrupted.

He can hear the soft drone of Luke's voice coming from the meeting room.

"Sorry?" Holden asked.

"Did you know?" This time Noah shouted; his soul crushing under the weight of betrayal.

"Are you okay, Son?"

"Not really," Noah replied; a sudden burst of emotion releasing tears and snot he quickly wiped on the sleeve of his khaki shirt.

"What is it?" Noah heard Lily ask Holden. "What's wrong?"

Holden made a noise to shush her, before readdressing Noah. "Take a few deep breaths, and tell me what's happened."

Noah complied, breathing in and out; filling lungs that burned and constricted in the depths of his chest.

"Luke," he gasped.

Applause could be heard from behind the wall; murmured conversations and the sounds of people moving about.

"Luke?" Holden clarified. "What about him?"

"You really don't know?"

"Noah, you're not making much sense."

"Luke!" Noah said again. "He's here!"

"Calm down, Son. What do you mean?"

The door to the meeting room banged open; Noah shook his head at the anxious and uncertain form that filled it.

"He's here," Noah softly repeated, before dropping the phone to his side. He pushed off the wall and forward; until he was standing a mere metre from the man who'd disappeared from his life, only to haunt his existence.

This time, Luke wouldn't meet Noah's gaze. The blonde grasped his hands together; wringing his forefinger in a habit that was so familiar it physically hurt to watch. The hazel eyes flitted over Noah's lower body until finally, Luke looked up; eyes glistening like dirty snowflakes.

"I… I'm sorry," Luke half-whispered. "I can't do this. I thought I could, but…"

The drum of his footsteps on the linoleum grew fainter as Luke retreated.

Noah stood in a shocked frozen state. He watched Luke leaving. Panic erupted and he yelled, "Luke, wait!"

But the door at the end of the corridor was already swinging loudly back and forth.

Luke was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

Noah maneuvered through his first physiotherapy session on strained autopilot; struggling to get his head around the morning's events. All he could think about was the wrecked look on Luke's face; how tired Luke seemed. Noah wanted to know more; understand everything. But only Luke had the answers; and Luke was gone.

The team's lead physiotherapist was reportedly a world leader in the field; and seemingly ultra excited to be on this new scientific journey. As Isaac pumped Noah's leg; assessing the nature and extent of Noah's injuries; he joked amicably about their shared biblical names and said something about it being fate they should meet.

Isaac couldn't have known how much that reminded Noah of Luke; the man who, Noah supposed, was funding Isaac's pay package.

What did Luke's presence at the facility really mean? If all this time Luke had been working on finding a solution to Noah's predicament, why had Luke walked away that morning without explanation? Why had he _never _mentioned anything about the project; not even to his family?

Noah wasn't naive enough to think Luke still wanted him; especially after the way their relationship ended. Not to mention the fact Noah wasn't exactly a catch anymore; broken, limbless mess that he was.

Besides, Noah knew Luke was still residing in Chicago with Reg. He'd overheard enough snippets of hushed conversation between the Snyder family members to painfully deduce as much.

But were these enough reasons to not even _speak_ to Noah?

The very thought of Luke and Reg together was always like a punch to the gut. He closed his eyes; swaying slightly during a balance exercise.

Worried, Isaac shot forward to hold Noah up.

"You okay?" he asked, gripping Noah under his armpits. "You wanna stop?"

"No," Noah breathlessly replied; pushing himself out of Isaac's hold. "Let's just get this over with."

His mind whirred with all those many questions only Luke could answer. He robotically followed Isaac's requests; speaking only when spoken too; moving about the room and completing various tasks as instructed.

He answered all the questions regarding his general health; pre-existing conditions, past medical issues, allergies, phobias; until he felt so poked and prodded; so utterly laid open he wanted to scream.

He kept glancing up at the silver clock on the wall. But the session dragged painfully on; both physically and emotionally.

"Now," Isaac was saying as he scribbled something in Noah's file. Noah gingerly lowered himself in the chair opposite Isaac's small desk. "I'm gonna suggest you undergo massage therapy. A few sessions will help with your blood flow. I also think you'll benefit from some ultrasound treatments, hydrotherapy…" Isaac kept ticking through the list of available options. "Oh and electrotherapy should work wonders."

Noah nodded in agreement when Isaac looked up, even though he wasn't planning on staying.

Something like worry flashed in the physiotherapist's dark eyes.

"I'm also gonna expect you to keep up_ this_ range of stretches." Isaac whipped a sheet from the inside of Noah's file and handed it too him. On it were diagrammatic figures to demonstrate the required movements.

Noah sighed.

Apparently concerned by Noah's despondence, Isaac leaned forward and patted the top of the sheet Noah held with his pen. "I can't stress the importance of this enough. It will certainly speed up the healing and bonding process if you can adhere to a strict regime." Isaac regarded Noah for a moment. "You're also looking very peaked. Are you eating?"

"Yeah," Noah replied, almost defensively.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Have you eaten today?"

Noah rolled his eyes. Stomach in knots, he hadn't exactly felt like eating recently.

Isaac scribbled more notes in the file. "I'm gonna expect you to stick to a healthy diet. The nutritionist can help with that. Make sure you take nothing but your prescribed medication and definitely no alcohol. Any questions?"

"No." Again, Noah checked the clock. They were one minute over time.

Isaac noticed and was staring at him again; making him tetchy.

"Are we done?" Noah hopefully asked.

Isaac glanced back up at the clock. "I guess. But can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Noah replied.

"Do you actually _wanna_ be here?" Isaac's eyes burned into Noah's at the question.

"That obvious, ha?"

A quizzical look past over Isaac's face.

"What?" Noah asked; growing more and more uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny.

"It's just…"

"Just what?" Noah pressed again.

"Well, the other candidates are all ears, ya know? They wanna hear what I got to say. But you… It's like you're just following orders."

Noah wobbled to a stand; snatching up his crutches and hobbling toward the exit.

"Maybe that's because I am," Noah almost snapped; balancing precariously so he could press the exit button. He didn't mean to be rude. He felt bad about it. But his patience was on tenterhooks. He hated being examined.

The door slid open. He was one hop through it when Isaac said, "I'm putting you down for a psych-evaluation."

Noah stopped with his back to the physiotherapist. He heavily closed his eyes.

"There's no point in training up your body if your mind's not in it. I'm gonna request an official order from the major too," Isaac added. "Since you're obviously so good at following them, at least that way I'll know you'll go."

…

The centre's administration offices were, strangely, located in the basement. Noah manoeuvred out of the elevator and headed down the stark white corridor, trying to remember the directions as given to him by a kind male nurse on reception.

Every joint in his body screamed in protest. Sweat beads were dripping down the centre of his back; his arms shook with the strain of holding him up; his body exhausted after the day's trials.

His lower half hurt worse than fire.

Noah knew he was supposed to be in the chair already.

Noah hated the chair.

He loathed how restrictive it was; he hated the way passersby shot looks of sympathy his way.

It felt too much like going backward instead of forward. He'd worked so hard during the months in the army hospital to stand on his good leg; it was soul-crushing to be ordered back into the chair.

"It's necessary to rest the stump during this process," Dr. Patnick had told him during their first appointment. "We are going to be asking a lot of you physically; we don't need to compound that if we can help it." Seeing the downhearted look on Noah's face, the doctor had kindly smiled. "I understand it's hard. But it will all be worth it when you see this new limb in action. Trust me. Besides, all the other participants will also be required to hang up their crutches for a while."

But Dr Patnick didn't know about Noah's history with Luke. That when Noah's father first discovered Noah's relationship with Luke, he'd lost his mind and put Luke into a chair; paralysed. They'd worked through it; Noah sticking like glue to Luke's side; whether Luke wanted him there or not. But at the time he never truly understood what it was like for Luke.

He had some idea now; and it hurt to think of how bone deep that fear must have been for Luke.

Almost breathless, Noah turned down the first right and second left, until he was facing the office door of his commanding officer, Major Blade Christie. The name was neatly taped across the center of the door.

It was odd. Noah spent the entire morning impatiently waiting for this moment; but now he was here he was struggling to work up enough courage to knock on the door.

Leaning sideways into the doorframe, Noah dug two painkillers from his pocket and quickly swallowed them; hoping they'd give him the boost he needed to get through this meeting.

Shaking, he took a deep breath and rapped on the door with his fist.

"Come in," the voice of authority pierced through the door and Noah instinctively reacted; straightening up.

He pushed the door open, closing it carefully behind him; trying not to embarrass himself by staggering or, worse, falling.

He stood to attention as best he could.

"Noah Mayer, Sir," he said with a wobbly salute. "Requesting permission to speak freely."

The major leaned forward on his large mahogany desk as Noah said his name; eyeing the young soldier with interest. It made Noah feel instantly uneasy.

"At ease, Private," he said; releasing Noah from the agony of holding so tight a stance.

Major Christie was in his fifties; greying with matching white military moustache over thin lips. His eyebrows were thick, bushy and unkempt. It was difficult not to focus on them; Noah tried to keep his eye-line just to the right of the man's face.

Behind the desk, a basement window spilled the late afternoon sunlight in a strip across the room. The windows were open, pumping fresh grass-scented air into the space.

"You've just had your first day of sessions, am I right?" Christie asked.

"Yes, Sir," Noah replied; his body shaking. He felt sick; but he did his best to hide this from the major.

"How did they go?"

"Good, Sir, thank you." Noah licked his lips and tasted the salt of sweat there. His breathing was steadily becoming heavier; longer. He knew something wasn't right, but he'd waited the whole day to speak to the major. He wasn't going to stop now.

"What can I do for you, Son?"

"Um…" Noah blinked his eyes back into focus. "Request permission to leave the program, Sir."

"Why would you want to do that?" There was no anger in Christie's tone, not even surprise or interest. It felt as though the man already knew the answer; just wanted Noah's confirmation. "We've had men begging to be on this trial."

"My reasons are of a personal nature…" This may have been the army, but even the army didn't have a right to all of him. "And-"

"…and I gather nothing at all to do with young Mr Snyder?"

Noah gasped. For a moment he was sure he'd heard wrong. "Wh…what?"

The major couldn't know… He couldn't!

"Have a seat, Son." The man indicated the chair opposite his desk.

Noah wanted to decline; but to be honest he was on the brink of collapse.

His superior seemed to notice. "Are you feeling okay? Drink?"

"I'm fine."

Christie smiled; leaning over the desk to grasp a glass decanter and pour Noah a cup of water.

"Thank you," Noah softly muttered as he drank from the glass. He set the water down on a nearby coaster; focusing on the condensation rather than looking at the major.

"I've been working with Luke on this project for quite a few months now," Christie continued, creating a temple with his fingers as he leaned back in his chair. "It didn't take much to work out that his passion was far more personal than purely philanthropic."

Noah's throat constricted; he fought to keep the shuddering out of his voice. But his lower lip trembled. "Sir, with all due respect… I…"

"I'm afraid I cannot grant permission to release you from the project, Private Mayor. Too much is at stake here."

Tears pricked the backs of Noah's eyes. "I'm sorry… I don't understand."

The major nodded. "I realise the very nature of this conversation would usually be considered counter-military by some. But under the circumstances-"

"Wait…" Noah didn't even care he'd interrupted. "What circumstances?"

"Project Walk,_ this_ project, is a joint venture between the army, this hospital and Oceanview Medical Biotics (funded by the Luke Snyder Foundation)," Christie explained with a certain level of earnestness.

Noah didn't like the feeling creeping up his neck; that he was somehow at the center of everything.

The major was still speaking. "For the army to get its hands on this level of life-like biotic prosthetics is unheard of. Involvement would usually be impossible based on cost alone. As a result, Oceanview doesn't stand to make any profit from its development."

"What?" Noah couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"The contract signed between all three parties was conditional to one thing."

Noah's heart rattled in his chest as his mind caught up with Christie.

Christie nodded in affirmation. "That one of the first five trail participants be Private Noah Mayer. You."

Suddenly the major's expansive office felt like the smallest box in the world. Noah shook his head.

_Luke._

"Do you understand what I'm telling you, Son?" The major clarified. "It seems the only reason any of us are here at all, is because a bomb went off in Iraq one day… and you were in it."

Noah reached too violently for the water glass and sent it spattering to the floor. It rolled away from the deposited puddle and hit the skirting board with a clank.

"I… I…" he swallowed and stumbled in his attempts to stand; the movement blasting pain straight into his skull. He pressed shaky fingers to his temple and rubbed. It did nothing to alleviate the sting. "I want to speak to Luke then… Tell him… tell him I'm not participating any further until I see him!"

Worry clouded the major's countenance. "Private, I hope you understand that your participation is required by direct order from your superiors. Your mission as it is."

Noah was beyond caring in whose presence he was standing. "It's not right!" He had to hold back from yelling; drowning under the weighted pressure of it all. "You can't put all this on me!" _It's not fair. _"Please… I need to talk to Luke." _I need Luke._

"Son," Christie's voice was warmer; almost fatherly. "I think you should head back to your room to calm down. You obviously need rest. Things will become clearer for you after that."

"Then I can see Luke?" He heard how childlike he sounded and internally cursed himself for being so weak.

_Dad was right._

"Is Luke here? Is he still here?"

Christie sympathetically smiled. But it was clear the conversation was over. "I'll see what I can do. You're dismissed."

Noah nodded awkwardly and made his way out of the room.

As soon as the door closed behind him however, he collapsed; chest tightening and breath wheezing. His vision clouded. He thought he heard somebody shout his name; footsteps running closer.

"Help," a familiar voice yelled. "I need help over here!"

His ears drummed with the sound of perceived explosions, screams, shouting; before the sensation of being lifted; warm hands cupping his checks, arms enveloping him.

"It's okay, Noah."

_Luke?_

"Breathe. Just breathe."

He tried but it burned. There was a loud buzzing in his ears. He forced his eyes open; managed a sliver; saw nothing but a blur of colour.

Then a quick focus on wet brown eyes made him want to lift his hand; touch.

"It's okay, Noah. I got you."

The voice felt like protection. He relaxed enough for blessed air to flood his lungs.

With one loud gasp, he gave in to the darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

Nights were as much a blessing as a curse. For the first few hours it meant relief from the relentless desert sun. It meant sanctuary; camouflage from the enemy.

But then the cold would set in; the kind that ate through a man's skin to reach the sensitive bone beneath. No amount of huddling together could stave off the crisp sharpness in the air. But there was usually nothing for it _but_ to huddle, try to sleep; and wait for morning.

This night, they'd failed to find a safe place to bed down. It was quickly becoming too dark to see; only a sliver of blue and red light framing the horizon. Already the wind was up; chilling those areas of flesh exposed to the elements.

First Lieutenant Shadrach Kissinger, or Shades as he was known to their platoon, had inadvertently found himself in charge; being the highest ranking officer after they lost the colonel the previous day.

Noah couldn't help notice that Kissinger was on edge. The troupe followed their new leader; but did their new leader even know where he was going?

Silently, Noah increased his pace, passing Rivers and Brown; both too tensely surveying their surroundings to notice.

"We're being followed…" he whispered to Kissinger; sidling up beside him. Their eyes locked. "…aren't we? That's why we're still moving."

Kissinger considered Noah for a moment before grimly nodding.

"You're smart," he said. "Anybody ever tell you that, Blue?"

"Someone once did," Noah replied.

The lieutenant glanced back over his broad shoulder. "Just don't tell the others, 'kay? This mission's already turned to shit as it is…"

"Why haven't they extracted us?" Noah asked. "I mean, we lost the colonel for god's sake!"

"I think we're surrounded. I think we walked into some kind of trap."

"You mean the intel was compromised?"

The first lieutenant sniffed. "Only thing makes sense. If we're surrounded, could be the rescue mission can't get in."

They marched quietly for a while; Noah considering what this might mean for their small platoon. The prospects that came to mind made him shiver.

"We'll have to shelter soon," Noah reminded Kissinger. "It's getting too cold." As he spoke a white mist expelled from his lips; as though to solidify his point.

"What about over there?" Kissinger nodded to the left of them. In the distance, there appeared to be a natural earth mound. "Think we could use that to keep the wind off?" He peered up at the darkening sky. "Could be a sandstorm tonight…"

Noah followed Kissinger's gaze skyward; dreading the thought; subconsciously ringing a finger around the rim of his ear in anticipation of the sand to come. Sure enough, the approaching storm could just be made out in the distance; where the clear starry sky gave suddenly way to an inky blackness.

"What about our tail?" he asked.

"Just have to hope they also bed down for the storm," the lieutenant replied. "Anyway, that small hill should act as a buffer."

The two men turned toward the horizon; minding their feet for trip wires and leading their party over the rough terrain.

By the time they reached their destination, darkness had descended. Noah was just able to make out a natural trench at the back of the mound; perfect for trapping in their much needed body heat. No chance of a fire. The terrain was flat and dry; the night clear. Any firelight would be seen from miles around.

They ate quietly from their meagre supplies; pooling what they had together in an effort to make it last.

"Little low on the H2O ain't we, Shades?" Rivers worriedly asked, tipping the last drop from his canteen on his tongue.

"There's a town to the north of here," Kissinger replied; hiding under a sleeping bag so he could study his map with a penlight. "They'll have a spring or a well or something."

"That's if there's anybody there," Brown reminded him.

Rolled up like sausages in a pan, they lay in silence; sleep quick to come to their tired minds and bodies. Noah felt himself slipping into his usual fretful slumber. He'd always been a light sleeper; always with one ear open for trouble. This served him well in the desert; but also starved him of much needed rest.

Left alone with his thoughts; he wondered what Luke was doing right in that moment. Who he was with…

"Fuck, Rivers!" Gonella shouted; jolting everybody awake; some grabbing for their guns. "What the fuck!"

"Shut up, Jo!" Rivers mumbled. "I ain't touched you! I ain't even moved, man!" Suddenly, Rivers joggled about with a yelp. "Fuck, Jo! I said it wasn't me!"

"I didn't do na'thing!" Jo whined in response.

"God! Would you guys shut the fuck up?" Rosen irritably yelled. "It's bad enough we have to fight the enemy, without you bunch of morons at each other's fucking throats all the time!"

"Yes, Calvin," Gonella responded. "But I'm telling you, something stung me real bad and-" Gonella howled again in pain.

Noah was just about to react when a bolt of burning heat struck him straight in the ankle. He yelped; the momentary ache enough to send a shooting spasm up his calf muscle.

Pretty soon all five of them were screaming as tiny but brutal pricks of heat hit them from all directions; the insects in question really living up to their name.

"Fire ants!" Brown screamed, scrambling frantically up the side of the trench. "It's a whole fucking nest!"

He reached the top and staggered to his feet, bending over to vigorously brush down the front and back of this cargos.

"Fucking hell!" he exclaimed, straitening up to watch as the others made a move to extract themselves from the angry nest. "That was-"

A shot rang out, echoing across the empty landscape. There was a delay; but not long enough for Brown to react.

Noah stopped brushing himself down long enough to lock eyes with the corporal and ask, "Berry?"

The look Corporal Bernard "Berry" Brown gave Noah in that moment, would stick with Noah for the rest of his life. It was shock and fear and realisation. The bullet was clean through Brown's heart. He dropped in a crumpled heap; quickly overcome by an undulating black mound of protective ants.

...

Noah screamed; and then screamed some more. He brushed at his arms, his torso, his legs; but nothing could rid him of the ants. Millions of them! They scampered over his skin, out his nose, through his ears; bites like lightening. They burned! Every part of him burned.

"Noah, it's okay."

The trench expanded; swallowing him whole; burying him alive. He chocked on fine sand and crawling ants. It felt like he was falling; desperately reaching out for something to grab hold of. Shadows gathered to him; wrapping him tightly until he could no longer breathe.

"Noah, relax…"

Hands were on his shoulders. The world lurched. He coughed uncontrollably; unable to draw himself away from the blinding fear. Panic clawed at him fiercely; like some savage animal. He had no body, no hands to feel with, no heart to love, no eyes to see. His screams were deafening.

"Noah, baby…"

The voice was so soothing. Noah searched it out; even as his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

He couldn't face Berry's dulled eyes.

He realised, suddenly, that he was clinging to skin; to solid body.

"Noah, open your eyes," the voice demanded. "You're dreaming. Just open your eyes."

Noah shook his head; still struggling to suck air into his lungs.

"Ants…" he gasped.

The warm hands holding him down were now stroking his arms; slowly up and down.

"You're safe. Take a deep breath."

Noah did, his eyes opening on the exhalation.

He knew Luke was a mirage.

_Obviously, out here in the desert. _

But he didn't care.

"Take another breath," Luke instructed. "Slowly in…"

Noah inhaled deeply; eyes focused on Luke's.

"…and out…"

Air shuddered from his lungs. He ignored the pain to keep hold of Luke's image for as long as possible.

"Don't go…" he begged; fighting to keep his eyes open. He knew if he didn't, this dream would end and he'd go back to falling.

Yet, when he reach up to touch Luke's face, the skin beneath his fingers felt surprisingly warm and real.

"Just go to sleep," Luke softly told him, kissing Noah's fingertips. "I'll be here when you wake up. I promise."

Something pricked Noah's inner-elbow.

_Ants. _

"What was that?" he heard Luke ask.

"A sedative," somebody replied; a stranger's voice. "It's a little stronger. Hopefully he'll sleep for a bit longer. That's really all he needs right now."

Noah clung to the Luke-mirage as numbness caressed his blood.

...

Luke was mad about something.

"He's been staying with you guys for weeks," he was saying. "How could you not notice he wasn't sleeping?"

"Come on, Luke." It was Holden; using his fatherly placation on Luke. Noah smiled internally; knowing what little effect it usually had once Luke was on a rant. "You _know _what Noah's like…"

"And you!" Luke seethed. "What the hell am I funding you people for? You're supposed to be caring for him! He's skin and bone and _nobody_ noticed? I have to find him on the fucking floor?"

"I'm sorry, Luke," another voice replied. "He'd only been at the facility for a few hours. We've barely gotten a record going for him. He was supposed to be in the chair…"

"Luke," Holden again, this time more sternly. "It's not the doctor's fault, okay? Everybody here cares about Noah."

Light blinded Noah as he forced his eyes open. Disorientated, he needed to see Luke to believe he wasn't dreaming. But there was sunlight streaming into the room.

"Luke?" he asked; but no sound came out.

"I want round the clock care for him!" Luke was still on a rampage. "I don't care if somebody has to stay awake for 24 hours! Noah comes first! Understood?"

"Luke, you're being unreasonable, son." Holden sighed.

"Unreasonable?" Luke scathed. "Do you even know how much money the Foundation has wrapped up in this project? Ha, Dad? Do you?"

"Luke…"

"I have done nothing for months but eat and sleep this thing! And it's not going to fail! Not on my watch!"

"Luke?" Noah tried again; and this time he made a sound.

Suddenly Luke was there, blocking the light and staring down at him with concern.

"Hey?" Luke smiled. It was the most beautiful thing Noah had seen in a long time. Luke seated himself on the side of Noah's bed. He pressed his palm to Noah's forehead, checking the temperature. "Wow. That's much cooler! How are you feeling?"

"Stop… yelling… at your Dad."

Luke wetly laughed. "Okay. Anything for you. Anything."


	9. Chapter 9

"Noah, can you hear me?"

"Luke?"

"He is coming awake… Noah, if you can hear me, please, squeeze at my hand."

Not Luke. A stranger. Somebody lifted the lid of Noah's right eye; Noah irritably shook his head; eyeball burning from the brightness.

"Nurse, turn down that light, please?" Accented. Not American.

"Yes, Doctor," a woman replied.

_Doctor?_

A change in the room. Darker. Was it a room? It felt like he was in bed.

"Noah?" That voice again. "Squeeze my hand if you understand what I am saying."

Noah complied. It was difficult; weak. Why was it so difficult?

"Good." The voice had a smile in it; kind. "That is good. Now, can you open your eyes?"

Everything felt… numb…

"Private Mayer?"

_Private?_

The army.

Noah must have displayed some sign of distress because the voice said, "It is okay. You are in the hospital. You are safe. But you must wake up now."

_Where are the others?_

Noah rapidly blinked. The room was darkened; but not by so much he couldn't see the older gentleman standing above him; white coat immediately putting Noah on edge.

"Hospital?" He croaked.

The doctor nodded. "You're at Landstuhl. I am Doctor Ullmann."

Noah frowned. "Germany?"

Again the doctor nodded. "You have had quite a fight, Private. For a while, we did not know if you would survive."

A sickening ball of panic quickly formulated in Noah's gut.

"My platoon?" he tentatively asked.

"Don't worry about it," Doctor Ullmann replied. "Concentrate on getting better."

Weakly, Noah tried to rise. "But, what happened…?"

The doctor pushed him back down into the pillow. "Relax, please."

"I need to know… what happened." A bright flash. A bang so loud it burst his ears. "Explosion… There was a… a bomb? There was… there was… No. No. It was a grenade. Oh god. Are they alive?"

The doctor remained silent.

"Please…" Noah begged.

"I am sorry. They did not make it out. Only you." The doctor smiled. "They are calling you a miracle."

Noah shook his head; felt the tears dampening the pillow.

"Your family is here."

Noah blinked; then frowned.

_Family? Luke? _

"They are very desperate to see you. But I cannot allow this, until you are calmer. Understand?"

Desperate for anything even remotely familiar, Noah nodded. He focused his breathing; closing his eyes.

"Good," Doctor Ullmann said. "I will let them in. One at a time, though. And only for one minute each. Then I will be back to examine you, yes?"

The doctor left the room, followed by the young nurse. While they were gone, Noah took in the space around him. It was small but military clean; every piece of equipment gleamed and stacked neatly in place.

Touching his face for the first time, Noah discovered the two small pipes in his nose as well as the IV in his right arm.

_Injured?_

He took mental stock. Chest. Neck. Arms. Hands. Torso. Legs… Legs…

_Legs?_

Something was… off…

He tried again. Legs and feet.

_Nothing._

A warning bell started a distant chime in his head; soft but persistent. He started his body cataloguing again, bone by bone; but stopped when there was a light rap on the door.

As it cracked open, he couldn't help the tiny glint of hope. For a moment he thought... But then he realized they were Luke's eyes, not Luke.

"Oh, Noah, baby."

"Mrs Snyder…?"

Lily rushed across the room, grabbing Noah's IV free hand and squeezing tightly. She kissed him on the forehead. He closed his eyes; breathing her scent. He was confused by her presence but too desperate to question how it was possible.

"We were _so_ worried," she sniffed.

With too many emotions to name he sobbed the first thing to enter his brain, "They're all dead."

She sadly nodded. "Yes. I know, sweetheart. But you don't think on that now. We're all here to take care of you. Holden and Mother are right outside. We took the jet over as soon as we heard the news." Then, seeing the unspoken question in Noah's eyes, she said, "Luke… I'm sure he would have come… if he could, but…"

Noah closed his eyes for a moment. Then, to save her any further awkwardness he said, "It's okay. I understand."

Because he did; though it didn't hurt any less.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, relieved.

Again, Noah simply said the first thing to come into his head, "I can't feel my legs."

As the words left his lips he felt a quick bolt of terror.

Lily's face paled; a tear dropped down her cheek.

…

Somebody was mowing the square of lawn just below Noah's balcony. The low rumble of the ride-on would recede each time the gardener completed a lap; only to drone loudly on the re-approach. The resulting grass smell wafted sweetly in through the open balcony door on the breath of a warm wind.

Occasionally, footsteps could be heard passing just outside the door; sometimes accompanied by voices; nurses and doctors on their rounds.

Another hospital.

Otherwise the room was silent; and had been for at least 30 minutes.

Noah lay prone in the bed, focused on the continuous drops within the plastic drip hung neatly beside his bed. He followed the flow of liquid down the clear tube, to where it disappeared inside his arm.

Luke lay beside him above the covers; one arm behind his head; eyes focused on the ceiling.

For a while, Noah had become all too aware of the proximity of Luke's pinkie finger to his own. One small swipe sideways and Noah could grasp it. He was thinking just this when Luke made the move himself; warm hand coming to lie softly over Noah's. It startled Noah and he gasped.

Luke whipped his hand back. "Sorry. I…"

Noah turned his head to look at him; their gaze deepening. "Luke?"

"Yeah?" Luke softly replied.

"What's going on?"

Luke breathed deeply, shifting up to rest his back against the headboard. "You were dehydrated and exhausted so you collapsed and-"

"I don't mean that," Noah interrupted. "I mean… I mean with you?"

Luke rubbed his face with both hands. "Oh, Noah," he whispered. "Everything?"

"Yesterday-"

"I'm sorry I walked out like I did…" Luke quickly interrupted; briefly closing his eyes; doing that little wringing of the finger thing. "It wasn't… It's not…"

"It's okay." Noah replied; giving Luke an out. "I know it's awkward. That I'm not the man-"

"It's not you," Luke adamantly insisted; staring down at Noah. "I mean… it is you… but, not how you think… shit… I'm getting this all wrong…" He stopped talking for a moment to take a breath and start again. "You have to understand, Noah. I have played that moment when I'd see you again, over and over in my head. For so long. But even so… I wasn't prepared. Nothing could have prepared me for how I felt. Nothing."

Noah steeled himself; ready for the "I felt it was my duty" speech he was sure would come next. Luke was happy in Chicago with Reg. This was all just… duty.

"How did you feel?" Noah had to know.

"Like I wanted to kill you myself!"


	10. Chapter 10

"God, we're so lazy today," Luke happily mused from underneath his elbow; bent and elevated to shade his eyes from the blistering sun. His wet hair was dark, plastered in streaks down his face and behind his ears.

"We should move into the shade soon," Noah replied; enjoying the way his skin prickled as the pond water evaporated from his exposed skin. "Emma will whip our hides if we end up as sunburnt as we were last week."

"Yeah," Luke giggled at the thought.

Luke's tanned stomach muscles clenched mid-chuckle. Noah spread his fingers over them; fanning the ribs; letting the tips slip slightly under the band of Luke's shorts.

The long grass, flattened by their spread towels, felt soft and spongy under his back. The breeze rustled the trees, water gently lapped the shore and, in the distance, Noah could just make out the industrious hum of Emma's honey bees.

Instead of moving, as he'd just suggested, he lay back even further with a contented sigh. Luke's hand found his, and their fingers flattened together.

"I want to lie here with you forever," Luke whispered.

As always, Noah felt the sadness quickly. His eyes traced the outline of fluffy clouds above them. "Nothing lasts forever, Luke."

Because it didn't.

Luke sat up on one elbow, turning his body to look down at Noah.

"Isn't that what you want too?" Luke's eyes were glassy; like Noah had just punched him.

Noah stroked Luke's cheek in reassurance. "Course I do. I want us to last more than anything."

"But you don't think we will?"

Noah smiled up at Luke; at his beauty; at his character; at his seemingly endless optimism.

"You don't," Luke realised when Noah didn't answer. "Do you?" He sat up, hugging his knees and watching the horizon where his sisters could be seen bobbing up and down in a tiny rowboat.

Noah moved to hug him from behind; chin resting on Luke's shoulder.

"All I'm saying," he softly explained, "is that life is unpredictable, Luke. This, right here, is the most time I've spent with anybody who wasn't my father. That's why I intend on making the most out of absolutely every precious moment you choose to give me. Because these are the best moments I've _ever_ had."

Luke twisted his head with a sideways glance and a tiny smirk that Noah wanted to kiss immediately.

"Sometimes, Mayer," he hummed. "I don't know whether your words are making me happy or sad."

Noah squeezed Luke tighter. "I'm going for happy."

Luke's lips were slightly chapped from the sun as Noah kissed him.

…

It was a strange memory to be thinking of, lying in a Branson hospital with Luke by this side as he asked, "How did you feel?"

"Like I wanted to kill you myself!" Luke appeared instantly stricken. He cupped his mouth like he couldn't believe what he'd just said.

Noah's heart went cold.

_He hates me now._

The words, Noah suspected, had been sitting just behind Luke's closed lips; on the tip of his tongue. They had been gnawing for exit; building up pressure until Luke spat them out with a force that shocked them both; all fire and spittle.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Noah simply watched Luke, waiting to see what the man would do next.

Luke shifted off the bed; standing with his back to Noah. He took a deep breath before turning.

"This is why…" he stopped as the words caught in his throat.

"You're angry with me," Noah stated.

Luke closed his eyes and nodded. "Yesterday when I saw you… I wanted to push you! I wanted to tell you I told you so… I wanted you to know what it's been like…"

"So that's why you left."

Again Luke nodded. "You don't need this from me right now. You have to concentrate on getting better. I don't want my feelings to bring you down."

"You're entitled to your feelings, Luke."

"Fuck you, Noah Mayer!" Luke glared down at Noah with disbelief before starting a fast pace of the room. "God!" He threw his arms in the air in frustration. "You don't even _care_, do you?" He stopped mid-stride and stared Noah in the eye. "You almost _died_!"

Noah swallowed hard, looking away from Luke's penetrating glare. "I know you want me to say I regret going; that I wish I hadn't?"

"Noah-"

"But I can't, Luke. I'm sorry. I can't regret it. I don't."

Luke wiped his mouth with his fingers; like he was clearing the filthy words that wanted to pour out.

"But I do regret hurting you." Noah braved, looking back up at him. "I never wanted to do that. Never…"

Luke's shoulders slumped and he nodded. "I know… Damn you, I hate it, but I do know…" He wiped his face in both hands; moving to stand and watch the scenery outside the balcony window.

"Why, Luke?" Noah softly asked, waiting for Luke to turn before continuing, "All this?" Noah indicated around the room.

Luke hugged his elbows. "You have to ask?"

"What about, Reg? Your letter said-"

"You never wrote back..."

Noah shook his head. "I didn't know how to. I…" _Love you._ "…I wanted you to be happy… and… you seemed that way. So…"

Luke puffed out a sardonic laugh, pressing his forehead into the palm of one hand. "Reg is a great guy…"

Noah was sure he felt the seams of his heart split open.

_So it's true. They are together._

"…but," Luke continued, "We lasted about two weeks."

Noah frowned, sure he'd heard wrong. "But, you live together? Don't you?"

Luke smiled, "Yeah, _live_ as in flatmates. Nothing more. We realised pretty quickly we were better off as friends."

Noah felt tears prick his eyes the relief was so strong, but he held them back. "Oh…"

"I regretted sending the letter. But when you didn't write back I thought..." He turned back to the window. "So I let it go. It was selfish, but… I don't know… It made things…"

"Easier?"

Luke nodded. "I was _so_ scared, Noah. Every time the phone rang; every knock at the door. My heart would go cold. I couldn't take it anymore. And then-"

Noah closed his eyes with realisation, "Lily called."

"She said…" Luke wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "She said… Luke, it's Noah…"

"I'm so sorry…"

"All my nightmares… all rushing in on that point in time. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't imagine a world without you in it. I just hung up on her…"

When Luke turned again, they gazed so intently, Noah was sure he felt all of Luke's fear; like a cold trembling deep in his bones.

"Eventually," Luke continued, "I had to face it. I had to know. I called her back and she was in Germany already. God, the relief I felt!"

"But you never came…" Noah shifted in the bed, once again studying his fingernails.

"I did," Luke softly replied.

Noah's head shot up.

"Of course I did."

"What?" Noah was flabbergasted. "But… Lily never said…"

"They didn't know," Luke explained. "I arrived late in the night. I went straight to the hospital and bullied my way in. But, when I saw you-"

"Like this you mean," Noah despondently nodded toward the flat space under the covers where his leg should have been.

Luke was seated by his side before Noah could blink. He grabbed Noah's hand in both of his own.

"Noah," he asserted; holding Noah's gaze as only he could. "I want you to hear me, okay? I'm sorry you lost your friends…"

The tears pooled quickly and fell when Noah blinked.

Luke squeezed Noah's hand tighter, "I'm sorry you lost your leg. But, I am so fucking grateful you're alive that I can't even care about any of that."

A dark black cloud descended so quickly it swallowed everything; even Luke's presence and the touch of his skin. Noah wrenched his hand out of Luke's grasp.

"Noah?"

"I'm tired," he heard himself say.

"Yes… yes of course you are." Luke quickly stood. "I'm sorry. I've said… I've said too much and you're not in a place to… shit…"

Noah turned on his side away from Luke, drawing his body into a safe ball; pulling the drip line over his torso.

"I never could shut the fuck up…" Then, "Noah?"

Noah couldn't respond; his head was pounding. He closed his eyes tightly.

Luke seemed to wait for a moment; apparently unsure what to do. Eventually he whispered, "I'm not leaving. I'm staying here at the centre. Any time… I mean _if_ you want to see me, just ask someone and I'll come… Okay?"

Noah kept his eyes closed but nodded. He heard Luke's feet shuffling toward the door and something inside him sprung to life.

"Luke?" he called.

"Yeah?" There was relief in Luke's voice.

"Why didn't you stay in Germany?"

There was a moment before Luke replied, "You were so sick and fragile… I didn't want to complicate things for you. I didn't think you'd want me there, because of the letter…"

Noah lifted his head slightly so he could stare at Luke across the room.

"You were wrong," he replied.

Luke acknowledged Noah's words with a gentle smile, before nodding his head and leaving Noah's room.

_I don't deserve you._


End file.
